


The Tale of Little Mushroom

by Rohnoc



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bullying, Fables - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rohnoc/pseuds/Rohnoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to be a little fungus in a new world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Little Mushroom

Once upon a time there was a little mushroom. The little mushroom grew happily inside a log, cozy in the damp, dark warmth.

One day the little mushroom noticed something had happened over night. A bit of the log had rotted away, forming a hole. And through the hole the little mushroom could see new things! Things it had no words for, but the sight of sent shivers down its stem. The little mushroom, so entranced, decided it would leave the log to go experience this new world.

Of course leaving the log was no small matter to a fungus without legs, but the little mushroom was patient and determined. Everyday for weeks it oozed a little closer to the hole.

Until one day… there was light. 

The little mushroom was out of the log, standing under the warm sun, it’s gills ruffled by a clean breeze.

“Ew! What’s that?” shouted a cruel voice. The little mushroom turned and saw a cluster of tall violets pointing at it. “It’s so ugly” cried another. “Dirt Cap” called a third, sending the whole lot into mocking laughter. The little mushroom was startled, the world was so beautiful but these violets were so mean. 

Hurt, the little mushroom edged back to the shadow of the log, beyond the view of the flowers. But the taunting continued. The spring days were darkened by chants of “Dirt Cap, Dirt Cap.” Each night the little mushroom told itself, ‘I’m tough, I can grow anywhere. My cap isn’t dirty, it’s lovely and soft. Those violets don’t know me. I’m wonderful. I’ve got better things to pay attention to.’

And slowly, it worked.

The little mushroom stopped hearing the violets and began to learn about life outside the log. It listened to bird song, made fast friends with a vole and a sapling, and enjoyed the sun. And in the summer, when the violet cluster was picked by a little girl, the little mushroom didn’t even notice.


End file.
